Who Decides What's Good and What's Evil?
by LightAmongTheShadows
Summary: When a struggle between good and evil turns a once peaceful kingdom apart, lives are changed forever. There is no neutrality, not picking a side isn't an option. Everyone branches off, convinced that their side is the right one. Rebellion, empire... It all blurs together. Which side is the good one? It's up to you to decide. {Issues with chapter one now fixed!}
1. Chapter 1

_Some would say the Capital is beautiful. A place where potential is realized, and where the young and reckless are molded into incredible soldiers. They would say it's the heart and soul of the empire. They truly believe that this is a good thing; they think the emperor has everyone's best interests in mind._

_ Then there are those who would say the exact opposite. Those would call the Capital a disgusting place, crawling with imperial filth. Those who claim it to be a brainwashing center, not changing people for the better, but manipulating them until they forget the truth. Those who are certain that the emperor is a parasite that needs to be exterminated._

_ The first group can be classified as loyalists. The second as rebels. It's purely up to you to decide who you support. But it would be fairer if you were to see each and every side of this story. I suppose this can only start with a loyalist, and a rather high-ranking one too._

**And so it begins.**

Duncan Porter stood in front of the legion of soldiers. His face was completely unreadable as his cruel blue eyes passed over the crowd. He could feel each and every person stiffen under his scrutiny. Most radiated fear. They were trembling; some even appeared to have wet their pants. Others exuded a facade of calm, though behind their blank faces you could see the panic in their eyes. And a very select few seemed completely unconcerned. They watched him carefully, ready to take orders, knowing better than to question his motives.

Behind Duncan were two other men. The first was a blonde man. He had almost wavy blonde hair that was slightly longer than protocol. His eyes were the color of the ocean and showed something that was almost rare in those trying times: joy. He displayed no clear emotion, but you could almost sense a smile. He wore a camouflage jumpsuit, just like every other soldier, but the difference was that his had a small silver pin on the left pectoral. This indicated his rather high rank as Duncan's lieutenant.

The second man was almost similar in appearance, but his attitude was the complete opposite. His hair was a crew cut, as the military demanded, but was a brilliant orange. He had fair skin, which was scattered with freckles. His eyes were a cobalt blue. In those eyes was something bad. It might've been pride, or even some level of stupidity, but it was definitely not good. Whatever that negative thing was, he oozed it. There was no joy, only a lust for power present in his features. He seemed almost... dangerous. Like the first man, he wore a camouflage jumpsuit. And, like the first man, he had a silver pin on his left pectoral.

Out of the three of them, though, Duncan's appearance was honestly the most shocking. He was incredibly pale, as if he had never seen the light of day. His eyes, as mentioned before, were as cold as ice. They showed no fear, no anger, no anything. He was completely expressionless. He had a thick black unibrow that was utterly straight. It didn't help to determine his mood at all. The truly stunning part about Duncan was his hair. If the first lieutenant was breaking protocol, then Duncan should've been escorted out of the base immediately. The majority of his thick, naturally dark hair had been shaved off. Now there was just a strip of hair still standing up in the middle. The truly atrocious part, however, was the color. It had been tampered with and was now... green. The practice of dying one's hair was hardly ever used, and was an outlandish thing to do. Had it been anyone else, there would've been hell to pay. But seeing as it was Duncan...

"Alright, cadets." Duncan barked suddenly, startling the poor individuals. "You've made it past boot camp. Congrats. But don't you dare celebrate yet." He added as he saw smiles begin to break out. "Because THAT was not the hard part. Trust me, cadets. By the end of all this, you will WISH you had dropped out in boot camp. It's still a long way until you get to be called 'private'."

A shiver went over the crowd. Smiles slid off of faces. A few worried murmurs broke out. Duncan looked satisfied by this reaction.

"Scared?" He sounded mocking. "You should be." He tilted his chin up arrogantly. "But lucky for you... you've been assigned to MY unit. For those of you that didn't pay attention in school, there are two units. Mine... and my partner's. Trust me when I say that you would much rather have me."

He could hear several people gulp. He had a feeling they had not wanted to be assigned to him. But they were stuck with him now.

"Do you see these two men behind me?" The green-haired man asked, gesturing to the mentioned. "Their names are Geoff," he pointed to the blonde one, "and Scott." He jabbed his thumb at the ginger. "But you will always call them 'sir'. They are my lieutenants."

Geoff and Scott nodded, reserved, at the soldiers.

"This means that they are the two people that are not only ranked above you, but have almost as much say as I do when it comes to your assignments. I trust them with my life, and if they tell you to do something... you _will_ do it. Otherwise I will take it personally. Understood?"

A chorus of "sir, yes sir!" made its way through the crowd.

Suddenly, a hand shot up. Duncan cocked half of his eyebrow. "Apparently this is now primary school." He sounded thoroughly amused. "Yes?"

The person in question was a boy on the edge of gangly. He had a goofy smile, and a dumb glint to his eye. His chestnut hair was longer than it should've been which, except in Geoff's case, always irritated Duncan. "Uh, yeah, sir? I, like, thought you had three lieutenants."

A few nods of agreement and curious expressions were spotted among the rank. Everyone seemed confused except Geoff and Scott, who tensed up, exchanging nervous glances.

"What's your name, cadet?" Duncan questioned, crossing his arms. His eyes narrowed a little as he took in the boy.

"Tyler Stevens, sir."

"Okay, Stevens. You're completely right."

Tyler beamed eagerly.

"I do have a third lieutenant. But see, that lieutenant wasn't completely loyal. He disobeyed a direct order and almost got a man killed." Duncan began walking towards Tyler, ignoring the gasps of the crowd. "And that... is inexcusable. I don't care what your rank or title." He was making his way through the ranks and was only a mere twenty feet from Tyler now. "If you disobey a direct order from your superior, you will be punished." He was upon the cadet. "Same goes for QUESTIONING your superior." He poked Tyler in the chest, causing the boy to wince. "Any more QUESTIONS, Stevens?" He drawled, stepping back.

The soldier was as white as a bed-sheet as he shook his rapidly head. "N-N-No, sir."

"Didn't think so." He turned and paced back to stand by his lieutenants. "However, since you seem so concerned about him, then I suppose you should know that Trent will be here tomorrow. I didn't kill him. Not yet."

"Thank y-you, sir."

"Now, as I was saying. These two, three if you count Trent, will each be responsible for a group of you. You will end up training with one of them. They will be your commanding officers. I will NOT be training you. I'm only here to supervise. Kapeesh?"

"Sir, yes sir!" They answered back without hesitation.

"Good. You'll be divided tomorrow. For now, return to your cabins. You need to get all your preparations done today... because tomorrow," he smirked, and for a second he looked like an insane criminal, "we have some fun." He watched their reactions for a second. "Dismissed!" He shouted.

They saluted as a unit before filing out of the courtyard. He watched them go, satisfied.

"So, where is Trent exactly?" Geoff questioned as soon as the area was cleared.

Duncan turned to face his friend. "He's spending the day with Owen. I was showing him what his future could be if he continues to break my rules."

"The day with the dungeon-keeper. Harsh." Geoff nodded approvingly.

The man with the mohawk shrugged. "Eh. It'll keep him in his place. That's the important part."

"He should've known better." Scott agreed. He rubbed his right leg bitterly. "I'm still walking with a limp."

"Don't be a sissy, Scott. It was just a spear." Duncan grinned devilishly. "But refresh my memory... exactly which one of us was claiming to be the 'rebel destroyer' at the time?" He snorted. "You sure destroyed them."

The ginger sighed. "Very funny." He said, resigned.

"He's got a point, bro." Geoff laughed.

Duncan chuckled. Around the soldiers Geoff and Scott were nothing more than his lieutenants. But behind the scenes, it did go deeper than that. They were his closest, and really only, friends. He didn't have many real allies in his line of work, let alone friends.

"Whatever!" Scott huffed. "That's beyond the point. The point is..." He trailed off.

"You don't even remember anymore, do you?" Geoff snickered.

Scott reddened. "Shuddup, Geoff..." He muttered, embarrassed.

"We were talking about Trent's stay in the dungeon, remember, knuckleheads?" Duncan chided. "Pay attention for once."

"That's right!" Scott's face lit up. "The point is that I think Trent deserves his stay in the pits. I think he's lucky to keep his position at all."

Geoff cocked an eyebrow. "Yeah? Because... if I remember right, he didn't want the position to begin with."

"He didn't." Duncan confirmed. "I convinced him to change his mind."

"You mean you blackmailed him." Scott raised an orange eyebrow, though he sounded almost happy about it.

The other lieutenant's blue eyes widened. He shook his head at his ginger counterpart, who completely ignored him. The leader crossed his arms.

"Same thing." Duncan shrugged, his eyes flashing.

"Not really. Convinced. Blackmailed. I think they're a lot different, actually. Both effective, yeah, but on a moral level..."

Geoff face-palmed.

"Same. Thing." Duncan asserted again, anger beginning to color his features.

Scott was clueless. "Not really-" he began again.

Geoff sighed.

"SHUT UP." Duncan grabbed the scruff of his lieutenant's shirt, causing him to gulp. "Whose side are you ON?" He hissed.

"Y-Yours, man, take it easy." Scott stammered fearfully.

"Doesn't seem like it." Duncan spat, releasing his teammate. Feeling betrayed, he turned his back to the two and stalked towards the exit.

"Where're you going, bro?" The blonde man shouted after him.

"None of your damn business!" He yelled, slamming the door behind him.

The green-haired military official stormed through the halls. He was practically radiating rage. Everyone he passed shuddered. His blue eyes blazed with fury. Each step was loud, echoing through the military base. A few men who spotted him saluted weakly before scampering away. Most, however, just squeaked and fled. Ordinarily, he wouldn't blame them, but he was too busy seeing red to think about how he was coming across. "Next person to gape at me is going to lose their arm!" He bellowed.

Everyone seemed to swallow as a unit, rapidly averting their gazes. It was clear that they were all just wondering what anyone could've done to make Duncan this angry. He was normally fairly level-headed. Though, to be honest, Duncan hardly knew what he was so mad about. Yes, Scott had called him out for blackmailing Trent. There had been no malicious intent. It wasn't like Geoff hadn't known about it. Really, there shouldn't have been a problem.

But there was. The sad truth was... it had made him feel small. Scott had blatantly pointed out his mistakes. Nobody did that. Duncan was used to giving orders and being treated like he was above everyone else. He wasn't used to his own lieutenant straight-up mentioning one of his errors. It had made him lose his feeling of control; a feeling that Duncan needed more than anything else.

Taking a deep breath, Duncan knew exactly who he needed to talk to. He rounded a corner and began heading to the courtyard on the opposite side of the building. He picked up his pace, praying that no one saw him coming this way. He was supposed to stay on his side of the base, with his troops. The B Class. Of course, he never told them that they were the second rates. But they were. His partner led the A Class.

Rumors flew around his relationship with his partner. An intense rivalry, a bitter hatred, you name it. They were supposed to despise each other. They were supposed to be more competitive than any other team had ever been. But only part of that was really true.

He burst into the courtyard. There stood a girl whose skin was paler than a piece of parchment. Her brown eyes were so dark that they could be mistaken for black. She wore the camouflage uniform like everyone else, but hers had a pin identical to Duncan's: the purest gold with the word 'general' written on it in slanting cursive. Her hair, like his, was the shocking part about her. Her hair was just above shoulder-length. But, of course, the color was the noteworthy part. It was inky, with blue, maybe turquoise, highlights. She was the only person in the entire empire who had dyed her hair, spare for Duncan. Just like the other general, she broke protocol with her appearance, and people just accepted it.

Her eyes met his and he felt his anger melt away. It was replaced with a familiar, comforting feeling.

"Hey sis."


	2. Chapter 2

_I know you want to hear about Duncan and his sister. And you will, I assure you. All in good time. For now, we're going to take a look at the other side of things. To do this, we will travel all the way across The Kingdom Wawanakwa to stare through a rebel's eyes. _

Courtney Carter stood on the edge of the forest, masked by the shadows of the trees. Her caramel tresses were tied back in a low ponytail, mostly for the sake of convenience. Her dark eyes flashed as she stared at the castle that was ominously looming out of the darkness.

The majority of rebels would hate the castle above all other imperial buildings. They would call it a monstrosity. The nucleus of the evil cell that was the capital. But Courtney disagreed. Her loathing was focused on a group of buildings far below the castle.

They were smaller, though still quite large. They had a few courtyards, but no more than two floors to them. All of the buildings were grouped together in an almost messy fashion. Her stomach churned with fury as she gazed at it. The barracks. She turned her gaze slightly as growled. They were neighbored closely by the military base.

That was the target of the day. That was where the generals were. Both of them. She had to eliminate them. She knew they both came from long lines of imperial generals, so if neither of them was the one she was looking for, then she would at least be eliminating the last of his kin.

The general she was looking for was proving difficult to find. She didn't know his name, face, or description. Those details had faded after all these years. All she knew was that he was, or had been, a general in the imperial army. That... and that her father's blood was on his hands.

_ She had been young. About ten. She remembered it clearly. She had been sitting at the small, wooden dining-room table. It was a table for two. Her mother hadn't eaten with them for years. She lived in a special building. Her dad never told her the name. He assured her that it was an ugly name. Now that she knew it, she agreed. Institution. One of the ugliest words she had ever heard. With this name came a brutal realization: her mother was crazy._

_ Courtney sat at the small dining table. If you could call it sitting; she had always been a little on the short side. If she wanted to be able to easily reach the table, she had to stay perched on her knees. She bounced up and down lightly, clutching a set of homemade cards in her hand._

_ This was how she and her father spent a lot of their free-time. They would play cards. Her father had handcrafted the cards out of thin bark. They would often gamble, betting on things such as who would do the chores. _

_ "Dad," Courtney spoke up suddenly, as he studied his hand carefully._

_"I know, I know, Court. It's my turn," he said, waving his hand in her direction. "I'm thinking. I was never any good at poker." _

_ She laughed lightly but shook her head. Her hair had been much longer back then. It hung in loose curls, going to her mid-back. Her curls bounced slightly as she moved. "No, it's not that." _

_ "Oh good. Because I need more time to think." He rubbed his beard, as if perplexed. "I don't want to be stuck walking Ollie again. He feels the need to pee on every tree we pass."_

_ The old basset hound lifted its head sleepily at its name. It let out a low bray. This bray quickly transitioned into a snore. The dog's head fell back to the floor and its eyes closed._

_ Courtney smiled at her pooch. She reached down and stroked his long ears. "Ollie is a good dog!" she insisted. "He just wants to mark his territory."_

_ "Yes, but on every tree? What is so threatened by? Chipmunks?"_

_ "They can be very scary," the little girl stated. "What if they threw an acorn at your head?"_

_ Her father's hand went to his cranium in mock-concern. "Well, I imagine it would hurt," he admitted._

_ "Exactly," Courtney smirked but then recalled what her original thought had been. "But dad... I was wondering. I met this boy a few days ago..."_

_ "Oh no! Not this talk already! You're too young for this! I'M too young for this!" he moaned jokingly._

_ She reached across the table and hit his arm playfully. "No!" she giggled. "I don't like-like him! I just met him, dad!" _

_ He sighed in relief. "Thank goodness." _

_ "No, it's just... he said that his brother was enlisting in the army. The Imperial Army. For the Empire." She furrowed her little brow. "I told him that the Empire were the bad guys, but... he got mad at me. He said I was wrong. He kept telling me that the rebels were the bad guys." She put her cards face-down on the table, her little gaze serious. "But you always told me that the Empire only like the rich people. That's why I can't go to school, but other people can. Because we don't have any money. You said that the Empire only cares about people who they can brainwash."_

_ Her dad set his cards down as well. He ran a hand through his dark hair. "I did say that, pumpkin. And that's what I think," he responded slowly. "But see, other people don't always agree. And telling people that you do... can get you in some trouble." _

_ "Why?" _

_ "Because the Empire don't like it, sweetheart. They don't want people saying they're bad," he explained. "It makes them very angry." _

_ Courtney slammed her little fist on the wooden table. It trembled. "So what if we make them angry? They're bullies!"_

_ Her dad nodded. "I agree. But they're in charge."_

_ "They are?"_

_ "Yes. They get to tell everyone what to do. If you make them mad, well, things could get bad."_

_ "The Empire is like the boss?" the girl tried to understood. _

_ He chuckled. "You could say that."_

_ "So you could get fired?"_

_ He raised his eyebrows, but was grinning from ear to ear. "Something like that."_

_ She nodded thoughtfully. "I won't say anything else, dad," she promised. _

_ He ruffled her hair. "You're a good kid, Court."_

_ She picked up her cards. "Now go! It's your turn."_

_ "Okay, let's see. I guess that I'll..." _

_ That was when they were interrupted by a loud pounding on their door. Both people in the tiny hut jumped. "Nicholas Carter! You have ten seconds to open the door or we'll break it down!" A voice boomed authoritatively._

_ "Who's that, daddy?" Courtney whispered, her innocent dark eyes wide._

_ "Ten! Nine!"_

_ His gaze hardened. "I'll deal with them, Courtney. You go back into the bedroom. Close the door."_

_ "Eight!"_

_ "But—"_

_ "Seven!"_

_ "GO." He ordered._

_ She scampered up and into the bedroom whilst the man outside declared "Six! Five! Four!" Instead of doing as she was told, however, she left the door open a crack. She peered through the miniscule gap, watching quietly._

_ "Three! Two!"_

_ "I'm opening it! Don't break anything down!" her father announced, getting up. He walked across the room, well, limped really. In the last few days he had sustained a knee injury while at work._

_ He tugged open the door, which creaked rather loudly on its hinges. Standing there were three men. Two were rather bulky, standing behind the first one. The first one was on the lean side. He had a camouflage uniform, as did the others. The only difference between their outfits was the golden pin on the left side of his chest. The other two had sterling silver ones._

_ "Nicholas Carter. You have been charged with treason against the Empire and Emperor Marks." _

_ Her father stood as tall as he could. His face was emotionless. "I don't understand. I have always been a good and loyal servant to the Emperor." _

_ "I don't think so. What were the words you used? 'Corrupted?' 'Cruel?' 'Ruthless?' Those sound familiar."_

_ He paled slightly, but otherwise kept his cool. "Where did you hear this?"_

_ "I believe you work as a miner, do you not?" Her father nodded, and the uniformed man continued. "You, of all people, Carter. Should know that we have ears everywhere. Turns out you were all sharing a drink. You were intoxicated. You told one of our spies everything. Including the fact that you're a Rebel Agent." The man drew the gun he had stowed away in a holster on his hip. "You know what we do to rebels, Mr. Carter. They can't be tolerated."_

_ "Not in here," he said abruptly, glancing back. His eyes met Courtney's and she gasped. "Don't make my daughter watch," he pleaded. "I don't want her to see this. Do you have kids? If you do, you would understand."_

_ The man's stern glare found Courtney's eye which was just barely visible through the slightly ajar door. His gaze softened. "I have two children," he replied. "Very well, we will take this outside." He seized her father by the scruff of his neck and drug him out the door. It slammed behind him._

_ "Courtney, I will always love you! I'm so sorry!" the man shouted from outside._

_ The loud echoing sound of a fired gun reached her ears. The yelling stopped immediately. Courtney screamed and came running out of the bedroom. "Daddy? DADDY!" she screeched, racing towards the front door. _

_ The man entered. He pocketed his pistol. "I'm sorry, Courtney." He did sound sorry, though only barely so. "You will be reassigned to a family within the Capital."_

_ "No! My daddy! What did you do to him? He can't be dead! No!" she wailed, pushing past him. "No!"_

_ There was a bloodstain on the ground outside. The body, however was gone. Courtney saw the wagon they must've arrived in. It was similar to the one the body collector used. She knew that he was in there. He was fine, just waiting in that wagon. She raced towards it._

_ One of the larger men grabbed her. "Oh no you don't," he growled._

_ "Let me go! Let me go!" She kicked him in the shins violently._

_ The man let out a howl; his grip slackened enough to allow her to escape. She took off. Seeing the men after her, she rocketed into the woods. She was small, swift, and agile. These men would have nothing on her._

_ Sure enough, after about ten minutes of chasing her up trees, into bushes, and through rivers, they gave up. "Leave her," yhe leader commanded bitterly. "Let her die. She's none of our concern."_

_ They finally left. Courtney was all alone. This hit her like a slap to the face. She began bawling. She sat there for almost an hour, crying until there were no tears left. Suddenly, she felt someone tap her shoulder. She screamed and whirled around._

_ "Hi." It was a woman. Tall and beautiful. She had kind eyes and a soft smile. Her glossy jet black hair went to her butt; it was the same length as Courtney's. "I'm Karina. Do you need help?"_

_ Blubbering, Courtney explained her situation. Karina, the leader of the rebellion, sympathized. She, without a second thought, took the little girl in. Courtney never protested. She knew that becoming a rebel like her father was the only thing she could do to avenge him._

Shaking the memory from her head, Courtney studied the military base again. It would have to be destroyed. She glanced through the trees. A ways away, she could see a spark of orange hair. Her commanding officer, Izzy, was the only aid she would have on this mission.

Of course, that's because it wasn't an official mission. This was sort of Courney's own personal mission. She shouldn't be on it. The rebel leader, the child of the esteemed Karina who was now supposed to be in hiding, would be furious. She winced slightly. It had to be done. Izzy was only going with it because she liked destroying things. But really, some help was better than none at all.

Courtney signaled the girl who eagerly scampered through the trees; within a matter of seconds she was on the streets. She was now wearing a dark wig and a newsboy cap. Her usual scrappy green dress was replaced with the gray uniform of an ordinary patrolman. She even had a fake badge she had stolen from a woman they had interrogated. She wore thin, wire-frame glasses with the lenses punched out.

"Officer," one of the civilians nodded to Izzy, who grinned crazily back.

Courtney slipped into her disguise. A pair of tight jeans, and a beige shirt. She let her hair loose and then pinned it up into a bun. She also put on a pair of glasses with the lenses punched out, but the rims were thicker than Izzy's.

She knew Izzy would have no problem getting into the base. She, however, might have to work a little harder.

She made it to the entrance. She went to enter but was stopped by a bulky man. "Military access only," he told her sternly.

"Excuse me?" She puffed herself up and withdrew a clipboard she had swiped from a former restaurant inspector. "I am here on the Emperor's orders. He wanted me to observe his base. He wished to see that everything was running smoothly."

"I was not informed—"

"Of course you weren't! It's a SURPRISE inspection!" she burst impatiently.

He faltered. "What did you say your name was?"

"Dakota North," she said smoothly.

Dakota North was one of the most famous names in the Empire. She worked directly under the Emperor and frequented all his bases, watching for rebel activity. Despite her fame, no one really knew what she looked like. She was always in disguise.

The man turned as white as a sheet. "M-Ms. North, ma'am!" he stammered. "I had no idea—"

"Just let me in," she snapped.

"Y-yes, ma'am," he agreed quickly, opening the door.

She beamed to herself as she passed. "I'm in," she whispered to the hidden walky-talky in her glasses.

"Me too, over! I feel so official! People keep calling me 'officer!'"

Courtney sighed. "That's great, Izzy. Don't forget your objective."

"Don't call me Izzy! I go by officer now."

Courtney rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Iz— uh, officer," she corrected herself.

"Over and out!" Izzy chimed.

The caramel-haired girl sighed again and started towards the back of the of the base. She knew Izzy was picking a room in the very front, preparing to do her job. She just had to plant the weapon and then get out.

She passed several soldiers who eyed her, impressed. One even whistled. She huffed and ignored them to the best of her ability. Had they no manners?

She was almost to her destination when a soldier yelled, "Hey mama, those stiff pants look mighty itchy. Why don't I help get 'em off of you?"

She turned to glare at him. "You—" she began.

She was interrupted by a loud bellow of, "Get back in your room NOW, Cress! You will respect any guests we have to the facility or you will be punished _severely_, do I make myself clear?"

The soldier's face flooded with panic. "M-my apologies, sir!" He saluted to the area behind Courtney and quickly fled.

She turned to see a repulsive looking boy. He had hair that was, she could barely look at it, BRIGHT GREEN. It was a Mohawk, of all things! He couldn't... he couldn't be in the military?

"I apologize for his crude behavior."

Now that she looked at him, he stood like a member of the military. His chest was up, his feet a shoulder-width's apart. His arms were folded behind his back. And he did wear the uniform. Wait... her eyes bulged from her head. Was that a GOLD badge?

"I'm General Porter," he greeted, extending a hand. "And you are?"

She shook it, though disgust was rising up within her. "Dakota North. Nice to meet you."

His kind gaze went stony. "Is that so?" In one swift motion, she was pinned to the wall. "Because I know Dakota North. Very well. I think she would've recognized me."

"I-I did!" Courtney lied. "I was just in deep cover!"

"Yeah? What's my first name?"

She gulped. "Um..." she hung her head. "I don't know."

He nodded. "That's what I thought. So who are you really? And more importantly," he scowled, "why are you in our base?"

"Hey Courtney!" the voice echoing from her glasses cried. "It's time for the boom!"

Courtney's eyes widened. Duncan glowered at her suspiciously. "What was that?" he hissed.

"BOOM BOOM!" Izzy yelled happily.

After that moment, time seemed to move in slow motion. An explosion erupted from the other side of the building. It was supposed to have been bigger. Much bigger. Courtney groaned. With only the power of one bomb and one detonator, it couldn't have blown up more than one room.

Soldiers flooded the hallway. Courtney took the opportunity to flee. She bobbed and weaved through the crowd, shedding her disguise as she went. "Retreat Izzy. Retreat," she whispered into her comm.

"Call me officer!" the voice responded. "But don't worry, I'm on my way, over and out!" she assured her partner.

All Courtney could think was, "Oh God. The leader is going to KILL me."


End file.
